Pandemonium gripped OPS, sinking its claws deep. Voices were raised, questions hurled, chaos threatening to descend. Shock and denial ran deep. A voice broke through the fear, steadying those in the room, anchoring them to a task that had just become ten times more important.
"I need everyone calm," Hetty's voice rose over the babble, her commanding tone a balm on the emotions that threatened to run rampant. "Mr. Beale, you and your group continue your attack on locating Mr. Deeks." She turned, a monitor flashing to life, Callen appearing.
Noticing the mood he frowned. "Hetty, what's..."
"It appears that we have a bigger problem than we originally believed." Quietly she filled him in on all that had taken place, her words short and succinct.
"How did Pearson know I had flown to DC Hetty? I didn't even know I was coming here until last night."
"That is just one of the very large and growing list of questions I have."
Two people had remained still, their eyes never leaving the screen.
Kensi stared, her eyes searching the room Deeks was being held in, hoping for some clue as to tell her where he was. Her heart clenched tight, fearing for her Deeks, only imagining what he must be feeling, facing the man who abused him as a child, and now knowing he was alive, trapped in his clutches.
Nate also stared, clinical eyes dissecting every word, every movement made. It wasn't clear yet what Brandel ultimately wanted. He had too many questions still, but he genuinely feared for Deeks. He was trapped in a room with four people, one of whom hated him on a personal level. Glancing at Eric, he silently sent a plea. Work faster.
On the screen, another man had now entered the room, now checking on Deeks, examining him. Finished, he turned to Pearson. "He's fine, bruised but no internal injuries."
Pearson nodded, thanking him, then escorted him to the door. He walked back, standing to the side watching father and son. The demeanor of the detective had changed, from a defiant cocky man, to that of a beaten child, waiting for the next blow to fall. Both rooms were silent, waiting.
"Martin Andrew Brandel." The name fell from Brandel's lips, a note of scorn evident. "It's been a long time hasn't it Martin? Twenty four years, I see you've done reasonably well for yourself. Important job, friends, you've seemed too have found a family to replace me haven't you?"
Deeks looked up, the eyes of his father two black holes of hate, still struggling to
comprehend how the man who made his, and his mother's life hell could be in front of him.
"Yes, I'm alive. I faked my death Martin. All so I could escape the stigma that your actions put me under. It's been hard living as someone else, not being able to be who I am. All that is because of you. I've waited for this for many years. There are some things I have to say to you. Things that you need to hear."
Kensi moaned softly, dreading what was about to happen. She knew that Deeks, even though he realized and accepted shooting his father was the only choice he had, still felt guilty over the act. Her focus was back on the room as Brandel began to speak.
"Mr. Pearson here tells me you and your friends caused him a large amount of pain. We had a very long conversation yesterday and today. About you, and many other things. It seems you and your team stuck your noses into business that doesn't concern any of you, and now you pay the price for that action."
"We took down a criminal," Deeks desponded, a note of pride and defiance in his voice.
"And look who is in the hot seat. You are Martin, not anyone else, just you. Seems to be a familiar pattern don't you think?"
Brandel stood, noticing the slight flinch of Deeks as he turned to face the camera, smiling for the first time. "Once again, you get the shit end of the deal. And your 'team' just keeps moving on. Well, that trend ends tonight."
He looked as Pearson, a surprised look on his face. "In a way, we're actually saving him. I'm not sure how I really feel about that." Brandel, now holding a bottle of water, stepped to the side of Deeks. "Your team has done an excellent job of letting you be the magnet for when things go wrong."
Pearson looked confused, as Brandel continued speaking. "When Martin first started, he dealt with three very angry agents. None of them wanted him on their team. After all, they're federal agents, the best that law enforcement can offer right?"
Pearson began to become intrigued despite himself, motioned for one of his guards to bring a chair, Pearson seating himself within full view of the camera, and Deeks. "So why keep him?"
"Henrietta Lange. For some reason known only to her, she believed he would fit in with them." Brandel, now behind Deeks, placed his hands on Deeks' shoulders, smiling as Deeks flinched. "But in seven years, he never really has. He's still the outsider, still just the cop. From what I could learn, they regularly never let him forget that fact. Sometimes it's subtle, other times not so much."
"I'm just as much a member as they are," Deeks spat back.
"Really?" Brandel moved, giving Deeks a sorrowful pat on the shoulder, then turning to face him. "So there's another reason why you are continuously put down, your ideas ignored, and why they routinely criticize and ridicule everything you say and do? Face it Martin, you're just the fool they use to soak up punishment."
He motioned to Pearson. "I'm sure in your line of work you've met some truly awful people. Ever met a man named Sidirov?"
Instantly the mood in OPS grew tense, the memories of that time still painful. Sam, his eyes watching the screen, flinched as he heard the screams of Deeks again, felt the current ghosting through his body. He would never forget the sacrifice made for him and his family, especially after what he had said in the park. Kensi gasped, her thought hurtling back to when her and Granger had first walked in to the auto-shop, seeing Deeks, head tilted to one side, blood covering him. She had thought he was dead. When he had moved, it was the happiest moment of her life.
"Yes, I know him," Pearson was speaking. "A psychotic monster with no sense of decorum or humanity. More madman that human really."
"Well, you're looking at one to the people who helped take him down," Brandel gestured at Deeks. "Martin is the one who had the dental work done."
Pearson started, his face a mask of shock. "This is the guy?" Of course he had heard the story, the thug who performed it had bragged before..."Wait, Detective Deeks withstood that amount of torture?"
"He did indeed." There was a note of pride in Brandel's voice oddly enough, trying to hide it. "Withstood it, then was the one who shot the thug, giving Agent Hannah time to kill Sidirov." Brandel held up a finger. "But there's a story with that. Before, Agent Hannah, or Sam, had questioned Martin's character only a few hours earlier. Basically told him he had no business on the team, and that he didn't trust him. Not only that, but said it over the air, for everyone to hear. And no-one defended Martin. They just let it go."
Pearson, now fully committed to the story, sat forward, shock on his face. "And he still..."
"Yes, he did. Even saved Sam from drowning. Then withstood the torture to cover for Sam's wife, then...left a hospital bed, to save Sam, and his wife, plus his own partner on a helipad. There's no telling what would have happened if Martin here had lain in that bed."
"Detective Deeks?" The voice was soft, respectful, a note of kindness coloring it. "Is this true?"
Deeks looked up, a rivulet of blood making its way down his cheek. "I did my job."
The room was silent, the men staring at Deeks in a new light.
In OPS, Sam gripped the edge of the table, the fear of that day running through him again, could only stare at the screen, everything that was said being the truth. The shame of his words, they would never go away. He could only try daily to make amends...
"Detective, a debt like that, is one that can never be repaid," Pearson spoke, awe in his voice, "never."
"Oh, but when they were found, Martin's partner left him there, making both of them stay, just to sell another agent's cover. He pleaded with her to be set free, and Agent Blye, Kensi, just kept getting him ready. And then, after they were rescued, Sam still questioned if he had broken. Didn't even ask if he was all right."
Kensi, now nearly shaking with anger, burst out. "It wasn't like that! I didn't..." She fell silent, her shoulders shaking. "It wasn't like that," she whispered.
"Of course not Miss Blye. They are twisting the facts, trying to make Mr. Deeks..."
"Hetty," Sam spoke over her, surprising everyone. "Nothing he said was a lie. It all happened."
Callen, staring into a camera from DC spoke up. "Sam, you know that was taken out of context. There were circumstances that,"
'I know that G, we all know that. But we're not in Deeks' position are we?"
"Martin, your team, from day one, has resented you being placed with them," Brandel's voice cut through the speaker, silencing the angry conversation in OPS. "They've used you, disrespected you, and you keep coming back for more. Sometimes, I wonder if I beat you ass too much. Maybe I knocked the sense out of you, rather than into you." He stopped, staring at Deeks, pity and disgust mixed on his face. Turning he motioned for Pearson to follow him, both leading after they watched the two guards check the restraints that held Deeks. Satisfied, they left, the room growing quieter.
"What the hell was that about?" Callen's voice burst through the screen. "Why bring up stuff that happened years ago? Yes we were hard on Deeks, we all know that. We've made our peace about that. Even Deeks has let it go. So why..." He ran out of steam, the frustration draining from him. There where too many questions, and the answers weren't coming at all.
"He's setting him up for something."
Heads turned, eyes questioning Nate as he stared at the screen, watching as Deeks sat alone, struggling to free himself.
"Mr. Getz, care to elaborate?"
Nate motioned to the screen. "Look at him. He's alone, isolated, no friendly face around. He's exhausted, I'm guessing he hasn't eaten of slept properly since last night. When someone is with him, it's four people who have stated or acted that they mean him harm. They're making him think he's alone." He shook his head, a hand rubbing his face. "As to what happened when he first started," he shrugged, "I'm guessing its to bring up past slights from all of you."
"But what would that accomplish?" Kensi began.
"That I don't know yet. But if he's vulnerable because of those remembered slights, then he could be hurt more. With what, I have no clue."
Sam, having checking on the progress of Eric and his team, shook his head. "Nothing, there's still too many proxies to get even a basic location of where they're at." The frustration was clear in his voice. He wanted this over. Since Sidirov, hiss irritation at Deeks had lessened. He still did annoy him, but more as a little brother, a pain in the ass, but tolerable. He wanted Deeks back with them, Deeks and Kensi maybe at the beach, or at one of their apartments, safe.
"Miss Jones?" Hetty received nothing. She turned finding Nell, her heart breaking.
Nell stood rigid, tears leaving tracks down her cheeks. Hetty, now a tad worried, reached Nell, a small hand on her forearm. "Nell?" She said softly. The distracted analyst turned looking at Hetty. "It's my fault. I did the research Hetty. I was the one who trusted the info. If I had just dug deeper...maybe found..."
"No, Miss Jones. This is Mr. Pearsons and Mr. Brandel's fault. No one else is to blame for this. You heard him, he waited over twenty years. Imagine the patience, the planning that takes. I fear I underestimated Brandel. I though him a common thug and I was wrong. Now Mr. Deeks is paying for that oversight."
Kensi, her heart breaking, reached Nell, folding her in her arms, giving her what comfort she could. The click of keys as Eric worked was the only sound.
"How did he know?" Kensi asked, staring at Sam.
"Know what Kens?" Callen, still on the monitor asked distractedly.
"On the helipad." She turned, releasing Nell with a squeeze, then stood before Sam. "Think about it Sam. There were six people up there. You, Michelle, Deeks and me. Sidirov and his torturer are dead. So how could he have known who killed who. None of us told him, so who did?"
"Someone here told him."
Sam's sentence, spoken softly, but with force, hung in the air, gripping their spines. "It's the only answer. Remember, we have to fill out detailed reports, describing everything we said and did. All three of us, take our reports and combine them, and you get a very good picture of what happened."
"We have another mole among us," Hetty said, disappointment vying with anger. "If that's true, and I don't see another explanation, then he could have anything." Kensi's words sounded like the slamming of a coffin lid.